Ghort said, 'Women love a man who's confident and knows right where he stands.'
Doneto gave Ghort a look that suggested the Principatй was considering rendering him down for fat.
'I take it back if I'm wrong.'
Doneto told Else, 'We're perfectly positioned. When they bring their captives in they have to pass by here to reach the palace and the citadel. We can jump them, grab Lothar, and run like hell. I'd leave booby traps to slow them down while we escape back to our covering force.'
'That sounds just plain totally alluring,' Ghort said.
Else scowled. He was in that cleft between Else Tage and Piper Hecht. 'Can you tell what the Brotherhood has managed to do?'
'No. Sit down and be quiet.'
Time passed. Else napped. A hand shook him. He found Ghort and Doneto looming over him.
Doneto murmured, 'The Pramans have shaken the Brotherhood. They kept hold of their prisoners. They'll arrive soon. There's less celebration, now. They got hurt, badly. As you might expect, seeing they had to break through a band handpicked by Grade Drocker.'
Pinkus Ghort asked, 'How many people do we need to rescue?'
Doneto ignored him.
Else asked, 'How many of them were there?' He recalled seeing about twenty pass the wine-pressing house.
Still, Doneto said nothing. Else prodded. 'Is it a secret, Your Grace?'
'I don't know,' Doneto snapped. 'There should be seven prisoners. Most all wounded.”
That made sense. The Braunsknechts would not give up without a fight 'Now we're getting somewhere,' Else said. 'What else? We're going to be in a fight in a while. What you hold back might get us all killed.'
Scowling, dejected at having to share any knowledge with anyone, Doneto replied, 'There were nineteen men with Lothar. Two were his servants. Two were priests. Two were Brotherhood of War. Ten were Braunsknechts. The rest were more mysterious. Though we saw them in Plemenza.'
'Ferris Renfrew. Of course. The Emperor's head spy. He was under foot a lot when we were getting ready for this squabble.'
'Yes. I don't think he's one of the captives.'
The Sha-lug who captured Lothar, Else believed, deserved the greatest honor.
Else asked, 'Do you know anything that might be useful now?' His tone informed the whole band that he was straining to remain patient 'Reminding you, what you don't say could get you dead with the rest of us.'
Doneto said, 'They're sending out more of their best men to cover the raiders. For their trouble they're getting Lothar, a priest who made no effort to avoid capture, two half-dead brothers from the cult of war, and several Braunsknechts in equally bad shape, still alive only because those in charge want to interrogate them.'
Doneto intoned, 'Tell me about that building there. Two up and across the street It feels empty.'
'It should be,' Else said. 'It was the Dainshau temple and exchange. They abandoned it after the Unbelievers arrived.'
'Do you know every building in the city, Hecht?'
'Only the ones that the refugees said were important.'
'Suppose some of us occupy that building and the rest stay here. The ones over there hit first. Then those of us here snatch Lothar once the Pramans start to react there. They'll be feeling safe and relaxed. We can hit and get.'
Else was not pleased. But he was no Grade Drocker. He could not tell a Principatй to shut up and get out of me way. 'Pinkus, you'd better warn the reserves to be ready.'
'That's their job, Pipe. They're on it now.'
Else asked Doneto, 'Can you tell, is that building really empty? There have been a lot of cold, snowy nights since the Dainshaukin fled.'
'Go check,' Doneto suggested. 'If nobody cuts your throat, it's safe.'
Else did exactly that. But alone. He could pass himself off as a Dreangerean for as long as it took to become invisible again.
The Dainshau structure had not remained empty. Soldiers had moved in but were not at home now. But, as Else was about to summon reinforcements, the Pramans with the Imperial prisoners appeared.
Else muttered, 'Pinkus, I hope you have smarts enough to manage.'
Of course he did. A better question might be, would Doneto refrain from interfering?
The Pramans were not alert. And why should they be, deep inside their own stronghold, when they were now confident of their ultimate victory? They were hurrying, in no formation, cracking the dark jokes men make after they have stuck a thumb in Death's eye and gotten away. The first dozen wore Lucidian helmets and rags that had started out as the uniform clothing of Indala al-Sul Halaladin's home cavalry. Next came the prisoners, in the care of Mafti al-Araj el-Arak's lifeguards. Eight or nine Sha-lug brought up the rear.
Something dark and noisome rose from the cobblestones in front of the Lucidians. The stench made Else want to retch. Then Ghort struck from the downhill side. The Lucidians and Calzirans panicked. The Sha-lug were less affected. Even so, Else was embarrassed by their feeble resistance.
Ghort reclaimed the prisoners with little effort.
Many of the fleeing Pramans ran into the building whence
Else was watching.
A second stinking shadow hoisted itself up in the gap between the Pramans and Ghort's raiders.
Else had no opportunity to get away. He dove into a shadowy corner, burrowed into a pile of junk and equipment needing repair, pulled some rags up to cover his face, and fought to control his breathing.
It had been a long time since he had heard his own language spoken. It took several minutes to get back into it.
There were twenty angry men within fifteen feet. Some cursed. Some threw things. Some wanted to counterattack right now, never mind that they had no idea what they faced. Never mind that they were so exhausted that they could barely stand.
A hand passed through Else's limited field of vision. It grabbed a broken saddle from near his hidden feet, flipped it onto its side. A man sat down. He panted, having trouble breathing. He slumped in defeat and a despair beneath which lay anger like molten stone. The man believed he had been misused, wasted, possibly even betrayed.
The twenty were a mixture of Lucidians, Calzirans, and Sha-lug. They went out again after a few minutes. The man seated on the saddle did not join them. Those who spoke to him received only grunts in response.
This was the man in charge, Else realized. And he was hurt He did try to follow the others but did not have the strength.
Else slapped a hand across the wounded man's mouth as he came out of hiding. He would do no harm if he could help it. Then he gasped. 'Bone?'
The wounded man looked at Else like he had met his own ghost.
Else turned. 'Bone? That is you, isn't it?'
'Captain Tage? But you're dead. For more than a year.'
'Hunh. I hadn't heard. When did this happen?'
'They said you were killed by an infidel sorcerer the day you landed in Firaldia.'
'They did? Interesting.' Inasmuch as he had been sending reports until the city regiment left Brothe. 'Who would that 'they' be?'
'Er-Rashal, Captain. He told everybody. The Marshall was seriously disappointed, mostly because he didn't get more use out of you. He wasn't sorry you were dead.'
Else's deepest, most secret suspicions seemed confirmed. 'Is that our company out there?'
'What's left. And some Lucidians and natives we've been working with. Captain, I'm pretty sure we're here to get wiped out. We get all the worst jobs. We keep losing men. We left Az out there somewhere this time.'
'I don't want anyone to know I survived. Not yet. The third sorcerer. The mystery man. That would be er- Rashal himself. Right?'
'Uh… Yes. But how could you know?'
'You know. And probably shouldn't. Right? Bone, we know almost everything there is to know, over there. We
